


Art is Art

by WordsmithMusings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Art Inspired, F/M, Fluff and Crack, HEA, Mentions of Famous Artists, Questionable Tastes, dramione - Freeform, is it art or is it a body part, it's just art, no really, not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21757123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsmithMusings/pseuds/WordsmithMusings
Summary: When Hermione and Draco fall in love with each other over their shared love of art, they unwittingly set upon a game of one-upmanship of erotic proportions. Or what happens when Draco brings home a piece of art that may be a princess or a penis and Hermione responds accordingly.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 18
Kudos: 55





	Art is Art

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EscapingArtist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EscapingArtist/gifts).



> For the lovely EscapingArtist who inspired this little one-shot with early morning/late night conversations over a piece of art that was arguable in its representation. This led to a hilarious exploration of hidden "parts" in art throughout the ages and whether it still counts as art if it's really a penis. 
> 
> Rated M due to mentions of sex, body parts, some profane language, and because saying penis or vagina a lot generally leads to lots of giggling and adverse reactions if set to a General Audience. (Though giggling is still highly encouraged.) 
> 
> Friendly reminder that I own NOTHING, and am neither a Pureblood or Rich and thus do not own the rights to any of the characters or art mentioned. Also, beta'd by Grammarly, so if you see any errors, please let me know. 
> 
> xx the Wordsmith

When Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy first began dating, they spent quite a lot of time in Muggle London. One of their favorite places to go on these dates were the various art museums scattered throughout the city. This often led to many exciting conversations about what is art? Is art art? How do you know it’s art? Etc etc. etc. Especially after Draco discovered the work of Peter Paul Ruben. Hermione had always been a fan of the way Ruben characterized movement in his pieces, but those were, of course, not the pieces Draco was drawn to. Instead, he was entirely drawn to the nudes. Draco found them glorious, for lack of a better term, and praised them often. Hermione wasn’t as much of a prude as everyone thought, and appreciated that he was so enamored by the curvaceous and not at all perfect women Ruben depicted. She was, however, more than a little unnerved when a large, and she feared authentic, painting of the Three Graces ended up in Draco’s large walk-in closet after one of their more heated debates. 

Of course, arguments between the two of them was nothing new. Their entire relationship it seemed was built upon heated discussions, sexual tension, and stubbornness. This was never more evident than when they visited a museum. Where one of them would be grossly insulted by the other’s lack of appreciation for this piece or that one by the other. One such argument may have ended with the pair being forcibly removed from one of their favorite galleries by security. This resulted in future visits to said very popular art museum requiring one or both of them to be covered by glamour or drink polyjuice potion beforehand to avoid being followed or escorted off the premises on site. “Allegedly,” one of them would reply if anyone would ask about it later, and that would be the end of that discussion as far as either of them was concerned. 

These visits became such a huge part of their relationship that when Draco decided to propose, he did it in on the steps of the National Portrait Gallery. Much to Hermione’s utter embarrassment, and there may have been several muggles that recorded, applauded, and cheered for the beautiful couple when she finally lowered her hands from her shocked face to say, “Yes, you irritating prat. Of course, I will!” 

When Hermione and Draco were married, they would continue the tradition of using art galleries, this time choosing to say I do in the wizarding section of the Louvre located inside the famed pyramid at sunset. The lavish wedding required little decorations, much to his mother’s chagrin, due to the bounty of beautiful art from around the world within the gallery. This included all their favorite artists from Kirby to Ruben to Van Gogh. The happy couple danced the night away under the stars visible through the transparent glass roof, blissfully unaware of everyone else’s opinions on their marriage or the art they loved.

The couple spent their honeymoon visiting various galleries throughout Europe. Much to Draco's dismay.

_ “Whenever Granger insisted we come up for air, which really was ridiculous,” he scoffed. _

__

_ “Everyone needs a break eventually, Draco, things get tender. Honestly.” she replied testily. _

__

_ “If you say so, dear," teased Draco, his hands and lips wandering to kiss places that weren't currently tender on his wife's sensitive body. _

Upon their return, the couple found a lovely portrait of the two of them dancing on their wedding night; their eyes fixed only on each other. Their hands intimately knitted together, his other hand resting on the exposed skin of her back, and her ring glistened from her left hand as she lovingly stroked his cheek. Placing it over the mantle in their new home was the easiest conversation the two art lovers had upon moving into their new house in the countryside of Norfolk. 

So it should be of no surprise, that the two newlyweds would quickly fill their cottage with artwork. 

_ “Twelve bedrooms is not a cottage, Draco.”  _

_ “It’s 37 bedrooms less than the country house, Granger. It’s a cottage.” _

_ “We don’t even need 12 bedrooms Draco.”  _

_ “Sure, we do.”  _

_ “No, really, we don’t.”  _

_ “Master bedroom. Kids bedroom. Guest bedrooms for your family/ guest bedrooms for my family. Library. Study. Office.”  _

_ “Those are the same things.”  _

_ “They are not. Besides, do you want to share a study with me?”  _

_ “Gods, no.”  _

_ “See. We need a study and an office.”  _

_ “Why do you get a study, and I get an office?”  _

_ “Fine, then two studies and an office.”  _

_ “Why do we need two studies and an office.”  _

_ “Really, Granger, you don’t invite business associates into your study. That’s private.”  _

_ “Honestly.”  _

_ “May I continue?”  _

_ “Fine.”  _

_ “Now, where was I? Oh yes, Potions lab. Playroom. See, we need all those bedrooms.”  _

_ “You mean to tell me that this house doesn’t already have those rooms set aside without having to convert a bedroom?”  _

_ “Of course not! There’s the formal living room, family living room, sitting room, receiving room-”  _

_ “Ugh, forget it.”  _

_ “And of course, we’ll need an art gallery of our own and a special room for your toys.”  _

_ “What? No. Oh, my Gods. No.”  _

_ “Were you planning on keeping the flogger somewhere else?”  _

_ “If I agree to this house, will you please stop talking?”  _

_ “Of course.”  _

_ “Fine.” _

\------

“DRACO! What is that!”

“Oh good, you’re home! What do you think?” he asked her with pride as his eyes gazed at the new golden sculpture sitting on a pillar in the floo room.

“Draco, why is their a penis on that pillar?” Hermione countered, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Penis?” gaped Draco coming to stand next to her, wondering if perhaps it was just the angle. “It’s NOT a penis love. It’s a Princess.”

Hermione scoffed as she opened her eyes. Her eyes traveled from the incredulous face of her husband and the golden mass in front of them. “Honey,” she began gently, feeling another of their art fights brewing, “that’s not what a princess looks like.”

“No. It’s art. I thought you’d love it.”

“You thought I’d love a golden sculpture of a penis?”

“Well, you love my penis.” Hermione smacked him in the chest absently. “Well, you do.”

“Be that as it may, I don’t love that.”

“That’s because you’re not looking at it properly. Here,” Draco grabbed her by the shoulders and shuffled her slightly to the left. “See totally different.”

“Draco,” whinged Hermione, “that’s still a penis.”

“No. It’s a princess. See, look here,” Draco pulled a leaflet from his pocket. “It says ‘Princess X reveals Brancusi’s interest in necessary forms and implied oppositions. The title suggests a feminine subject, encouraging us to see the sculpture as a bust of a woman.”

“That’s a dick, Draco.”

“Well, then you should like it even more. You’re always talking about mine.”

“I hate you. Why did I marry you again?”

“Because my dick is a work of art?”

Hermione snorted as she stormed from the room. Draco turned his amused eyes back to the sculpture in front of him. “Okay, it kinda does look like a dick.”

“I heard that!” 

“It’s not a penis!” he hollered back. “It’s, uh, a commentary on gender!”

“Riiiiiiiiiiiight.”

\-----

A few months later, as the two prepared for a dinner party with both of their parents, Hermione noticed new plates sitting on the table. The dishes were simple circles in design with a repeating blue pattern upon it. 

As Hermione picked a dish up to examine it more closely, she gasped. “DRACO!”

A moment later, Draco appeared in the room, his face flushed. “What? What? Is everything okay?”

“Draco, what is on these plates?!” demanded Hermione shoving one in his direction.

Draco’s lip twitched for a half a second before he carefully schooled his face. “What do you mean, love? They're just dishes.”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, these are not just dishes!”

“They’re art!”

“These are not art! Oh my gods, what is wrong with you?”

Draco smirked. “Come on; they’re hilarious. I figured if things got too rough between our parents, they’d enjoy having something to discuss.”

“You thought that having our parents discuss what is on these plates would be a good way to break the ice?”

“Yessssss.”

“Men are fornicating on these plates, Draco!”

A small giggle escaped Draco before he quickly coughed in an attempt to cover up the sound. “There are? No! I thought they were playing leapfrog!”

“Leapfrog? Since when have you ever known what leapfrog was?”

“Excuse me, Miss high and mighty, I know what leapfrog is.”

“Really, what is it?” queried Hermione sweetly as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her hip was jutting out the way it did when she was secretly irritated. 

Draco hesitated for several moments before replying, “Well, you’re the one always going on about how I don’t like muggle art. I was trying to be cultured.”

“You were not trying to be cultured!”

“Sure I was, and what do I get for my trouble. Laughed at. Scorned."

“I cannot believe you. Change this,” Hermione demanded extending the plate out towards him.

“Spoilsport. You suck the joy out of everything.”

“That’s me. Hope killer.”

“Dream smasher.” Hermione merely nodded, her eyes alternating between him and the plate now in his hand.

“Fine.” Draco huffed. He paused for a moment, considering his options before waving his wand over the plate. 

Hermione picked a plate up from the table to examine it. “DRACO!” 

“What I changed it!”

“Making them move isn’t changing it!”

\--------

Draco was enjoying a lazy Sunday when he walked into his study and stopped suddenly. Prominently displayed behind his desk were several new pictures he didn’t recall buying. Wandering back into the hallway, he quickly entered the dining room where his wife was enjoying a late breakfast. “Dear?”

“Hmmm,” she replied, not looking up from the newspaper in her hands.

“I noticed there’s some new art in my study.”

Hermione’s head snapped up. “Oh, do you like it?”

“It’s interesting.”

“Oh, you don’t like it,” she replied, pouting slightly.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just,” Draco struggled for a moment with what he wanted to say as Hermione took a sip of her coffee. I’m wondering if my study was the best place to hang up pictures of your vagina.”

Hermione spat out her coffee and gasped, "Draco, those are not paintings of my vagina!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she huffed, waving her wand to clean up the mess she'd made she’d made moments ago with the coffee. "Those are original paintings by Georgia O'Keeffe. I thought, given your love of flowers, that you would appreciate their beauty. "

"Love, I hate to break it to you, but those are not flowers."

"I assure you, darling, they are. Ms. O'Keefe's love of flowers and nature is well documented."

"I'm sure it is," replied Draco, "but those are not flowers."

"Is the sculpture in the floo room a penis?"

"You know it's a princess."

"And those are flowers," she replied, smugly returning her attention to the Prophet, ignoring the grumbling of her husband as he stomped from the room and back towards his study.

\-----

"Mate, what the hell is that?"

Draco, Theo, and Neville had been flying over the lush grounds of Draco's cottage when Theo had noted Hermione and Luna in one of the walled gardens levitating several statues.

Draco shook his head. He signaled, and the three of them lowered to the ground to see what his wife and her eccentric friend were doing. Given the art rivalry that had been burgeoning between him and his wife, he was almost scared to know.

"Good afternoon, darling," he began, kissing his wife gently on the temple as he landed smoothly, "What are you two lovelies doing out here on such a pretty day?"

Hermione squeaked as he kissed her, almost dropping the statue she was levitating, before swatting him. "Prat. Don't make me drop this!"

"And what is this?" He asked, his attention finally taking in the three statues between them. Each of them life-size and decidedly naked.

"Aren't they wonderful?" exclaimed Hermione, her eyes glittering with mischief. 

"They're something," mumbled Draco, his eyes immediately dropping down to the very obvious, tiny penis in front of him. 

"Were you looking for an ego boost, Drake?" asked Theo, nothing where his friend's eye had gone. 

"Not at all. Though it's nice to know I'm bigger than, what, ancient Greeks?" he directed the last part to his wife, who nodded with a smile. "Much bigger darling," she assured him kindly.

Draco's chest puffed out as he grinned.

"The ancient Greek considered large penis to be grotesque," chimed in Luna, her dreamy voice cutting across the conversation.

"I think this one should go here, Hermione. He'll catch the sun perfectly."

"Yes, I agree." Hermione extracted herself from Draco's arms to confirm the statue placement with her friend.

"Is there a reason why you got three, love?"

"Oh, yes, Luna thought four would be too many."

"Three is better for spellwork," agreed Luna. Her gaze was turning to the other statue.

"What kind of spells will they be doing out here amongst the ancient Greeks?" mused Theo. His eyes were showing the laughter he was holding back.

"Oh, there's all kinds of spells. Mainly for sex and fertility. But quite a few during the solstice. Especially with some of the herbs and flowers, Neville has planted around the edges."

Neville's face turned a shade of red as he confirmed what the willowy blonde was saying. "Why are their sacks so saggy?" He half-whispered to Theo when the girls turned their backs back towards the other statue.

"I can't get over how small their penises are," chuckled Theo. "Blaise would have a field day out here with these things."

"Boys. Shouldn't you have grown past the dick measuring contests?" huffed Hermione.

"Not bloody likely."

"And especially not if you're going to give us statues to measure against."

"I'm pretty sure I have more hair on my chest," muttered Neville taking in the statue once more.

"That's the aesthetic of the time," mused Luna, admiring the statue in front of her.

Draco shifted uncomfortably next to Hermione as Luna's hand caressed the statue in front of her as she described the perfect aesthetic of the Greeks. "a gleaming chest, bright skin, broad shoulders, strong buttocks, and a little prick."

"We are not doing any naked spellwork under a full moon in front of these things," whispered Draco into Hermione's ear as Luna's sighed dreamily before removing her hands from the statue in front of her.

"Agreed."

  
  


\-----

Hermione stopped short as she entered her bedroom. Her eyes were instantly moving to another new piece of art near the doorway. This time it was a marble angel holding a plaque above its head.

Hermione sighed. "Draco? What the hell is this?"

"Isn't it great?"

"What does the plaque say? Do you even know?

"It says something about always pure. I thought it was great for the family motto." He absently handed Hermione a placard the art dealer had given him with information about his latest acquisition. 

"Draco, this thing is called the angel of purity."

"See an angel for an angel," he replied smoothly, leaning down to kiss her on the lips. 

"Yes, an angel of purity that he made using his mistress as the model."

Draco pulled back slowly, noting the tone of her voice. "And I'm guessing that's bad?"

"Yes, that's bad."

"Because she was impure?"

Hermione rubbed her hands over her face in exasperation. "If you insist on keeping this, take it to the Manor and put it in the cemetery near the Black plots then."

"So you're saying I can't keep it in the house?"

"Not if you expect me to do anything impure with you ever again."

"Right. I'll move it now."

"You do that, honey."

\------

Hermione spent 25 minutes one afternoon wandering around the inappropriately named cottage to find her husband, only to find him surprisingly enough in one of the rooms they had marked as a future nursery/kids room.

"Draco? Everything okay?"

"Hmmm? Yes. Yes." Draco replied absently.

"What are you doing in here, love?" Ever since several of their friends had announced they were having babies in rapid succession, Draco had become quite broody. If Hermione was a believer in traditional gender stereotypes, she might have been concerned that it was her husband that had developed this sudden need to procreate and not her. Still, she knew that Draco felt the added Pureblood pressure of having an heir that didn't sway her.

As Hermione moved to comfort him in anticipation of the "are we ready to have kids/do you think we should start trying/our lives are perfect just as they are" conversation, she noted a new piece of art on the wall above the crib and paused. 

She recognized the style as Reubens immediately. He was, after all, one of her favorite artists, but this piece was new to her. 

"Draco, what am I looking at?"

"Hmmmmm?" Draco's eyes drifted from the floor to his wife and then to the painting. "Oh, sorry, love. I picked that up for you the other day."

"It's a Reuben, yes?"

"Got it in one," he replied, smiling. "Origin of the Milky Way it's called. It's his interpretation of baby Hercules and Juno and the creation of the milky way galaxy." Draco went on to share the story of the myth, and Hermione tried to stifle her horror at the inaccuracy and idiocy. 

"Draco, that is not how the human body works!"

"You're saying if you spray milk out into the world, it won't just manifest a galaxy?"

"No! First of all, I am not going to be waving my tits around, trying to spray everything with milk. Second of all, I am not a goddess. Third and most importantly, that is not how the cosmos were created!"

"Are you sure you're not a goddess? I've always enjoyed worshiping at your feet."

Seeing the lust in his eyes, Hermione stepped back, her hand extended to push him away, "Don't even try."

"Try what?" He asked, a smirk already playing at his lips. "To worship you? You know I love to please you." He grabbed her arm and pulled her close, pressing her body to his. "Let me show you how divine I think you are."

Hermione giggled as she swatted at his chest. "Get away, you prat. And I am not putting that in any of our future children's nursery."

"Such a killjoy," Draco muttered, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck.

"I think I preferred Goddess."

"As do I!" Draco replied, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms, charging off to their bedroom to show her just how much he enjoyed her body. Hermione was giggling all the while, as she continued to demand the Reuben be moved to a more appropriate location than the nursery.

"Why? You can share your stories with another goddess, and she can teach you how to paint the sky with your liquid gold."

"You're impossible."

"You still love me."

"I love you more when you're worshipping me."

\------

"Hermione, what in the ever living hell is the Vagina Museum?"

"It's just what it sounds like, Draco."

"Why is there a Vagina Museum?"

"Why is there a penis museum?"

"Okay, let me rephrase. Why am I getting a thank you card from them and an invitation to join their inner circle permanently?"

Hermione took the card from his hand and skimmed its contents. "Well, I think that should be obvious, darling. You made a substantial contribution to their museum to help them secure their location."

"And when did I do that?" He asked, knowing quite clearly that he did not make any donation at all to said museum.

"I think it was right after you brought home that picture by Dali with the third leg."

Draco sighed as he took the paper back from her. "Fair enough."

\-----

And so it went, on and on, each of them buying new art pieces with hidden sexual messages, phallic symbols or questionable petals resembling vulvas. There were modern-day prints, more ancient Greek sculptures, Roman hangings, and an expanse of pictures spanning centuries that required several of Draco's necessary 12 bedrooms to be magically transfigured into a large gallery of their own. 

There were even date days where Draco did nothing but try and convince Hermione to go bum hunting with him. Given that, Hermione really should've known that gifting Draco a muggle camera before one of their date days would result in his continued obsession with museum bums, as the developed film was picture after picture of bums in sculptures and paintings. Though there was one particularly lovely photo of Hermione looking lost in thought that he framed for his desk at work and his study, to go with his vagina flower paintings which he had grown to love. 

There was also that one time that he did convince her to play a made up on the spot game, he affectionately titled "top or bottom" where they counted each exposed breast or penis and the winner got to enjoy a lovely oral gift from the loser. (Draco counted that day as a win/win, and one of his finger bits of brilliance.)

One day as Draco added a new painting by John Everett Millais, of a man holding out his leg and a shadow of a large penis in his white tights, Hermione approached him with a letter. "Draco! We've been asked to lend several of our pieces to a large exhibition at our favorite gallery in London next year."

"Really?" asked Draco taking the missive from her to read for himself. "Did you read this love?"

"Briefly. I was just concerned with the number they asked for. Though obviously, we can spare a couple of dozen pieces if necessary."

"This says we have the largest erotic art collection in all of Britain."

Hermione gasped. "We do?"

Draco smirked. "Wonder if they'd accept our original Love is Art piece?"

Hermione blushed at the mention of the canvas they had made while making love on their anniversary several months prior. "I highly doubt that's considered a priceless piece of art my love."

"Why? I think it's the most erotic piece of art we own and talk about hiding in plain sight."

Hermione's blush spread down her neck as Draco leaned in and nipped at the soft spot behind her ear. "I bought another one you know."

Draco's eyes flashed, "Well Mrs. Malfoy, shall we go make some more art of our own?"

"Art is art," she replied softly tilting her head to kiss him deeply in response. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> A/N There is a LOT of art referenced in this, along with a couple of movies, and I will make a Pinterest board to link everything referenced over the next few days, but for now, Google is your friend. As always comments and kudos are welcome and I hope you enjoyed this little bit of crackfic!
> 
> xx the Wordsmith


End file.
